


Make It Work

by spoffyumi



Series: Make It Work [1]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fashion & Models, Fashion Designer Magnus Bane, Fluff, M/M, Model Alec Lightwood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-27
Updated: 2017-07-27
Packaged: 2018-12-07 12:25:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11623488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spoffyumi/pseuds/spoffyumi
Summary: Alexander Lightwood is the most highly sought-after fashion model in New York City, well known for his party boy antics and dangerous escapades.  And he’s about to ruin Magnus Bane’s first runway show.





	Make It Work

 

“WHERE is Alexander?” Magnus demanded, looking around the crowded dressing room. 

“No one’s seen him.”  Raphael continued teasing the red-headed model’s hair before him into a wispy cloud.  “I don’t know why you’re so surprised.  Everyone knows what he’s like.”

“He’s the best, and I need the best for my line.  I need to make a splash.” Surveying the racks of clothing around him, Magnus took a deep breath, then coughed on the hair spray fumes Raphael was now expelling from a can.  “If my first show flops, I’ll never make it as a fashion designer.”

“Your designs are what’s important.  Not some pretty boy model who can’t seem to keep out of the gossip columns.”

“I heard he and Jace were at that party in the Hamptons last night,” chirped the redhead. 

Magnus squinted at her, trying to remember her name.  Clary?  “The one with the _explosion_?”

“Yeah, that one.”  Clary giggled.  “They’re _so_ crazy.”

Raphael gave Magnus a Look.

“I’m ruined,” Magnus moaned.

“Pull yourself together,” Raphael said, finally dismissing Clary and grabbing Magnus by the shoulders.  “The show must go on.  It ain’t over till the fat lady sings.  And above all--” Magnus chimed in for the next part, doing his best Tim Gunn impression.  “Make it work!”

They both laughed, then Raphael said, “Get the models you have dressed.  That way, when Alec – and Jace,” Magnus rolled his eyes, _like he cared about Jace_ , “decide to show up for their paychecks, you have time to get them ready.”

There wasn’t much else to be done, really.  Except… Gathering a slinky sequined evening gown in his arms, Magnus approached a tall, raven-haired beauty admiring her nearly naked body in the mirror.  All she wore was a black crop top and a nude-colored thong.  Magnus waited with as much patience as he could muster while Isabelle Lightwood took a selfie. 

“Let’s get you dressed,” Magnus said when she finally noticed him. 

“Oh, is that one mine?  Mags, you are amazing!”  With no self-consciousness, she tore off her top and held out her arms, flexing her fingers in a gimme gesture.  “I’m gonna look so amazing in this.  Silver is my color.”

“You look amazing in every color.”  Magnus’s flattery was genuine, yet for a purpose.  “Do you have any idea when your brother will be coming in?”

Isabelle was halfway into the dress, a careful procedure since her hair had already been done.  Magnus would have to sew the dress closed.  From within layers of fabric, her muffled voice said, “Oh, he’ll be here.”

“I certainly hope so.  I heard there was an… incident at a party he was at last night?”

“Oh yeah!  Alec’s, like, a total pyro.  But he’s fine.”

These were a lot of red flags.  No wonder Alexander had been free for this show, if his antics were always this dangerous, and made him late for the very thing that had made him famous. 

Magnus still remembered the first time he had seen Alec Lightwood on a runway.  Almost exactly a year ago, right here in Bryant Park, during fashion week.  He’d been a model for Armani’s spring menswear collection, and his walk emoted something dangerous, yet controlled.  Like a panther.  Plus he had dark hair and piercing ocean-colored eyes, a combination Magnus loved.  And he had been the first model out, a highly coveted position, reserved only for the best models.

For the past year, Magnus had been working his way through the fashion world, culminating in this moment when he would reveal his own collection.  When he’d begun the process of selecting models for his show months ago, he’d gone out of his way to contact Alec’s agent and book him.  But even before then, Magnus had tracked down Isabelle and got her to sign on to his show as the opening model – he’d heard from a few insiders that the Lightwoods enjoyed modelling together.  Sure enough, Alec had accepted.  Isabelle would be the opening model, and Alexander would be the closer.  

Magnus had hoped he would have more contact with the male Lightwood.  He had invited all of his models for a fitting last week.  While Isabelle had shown up, Alec had not.  His agent had simply sent Magnus his measurements.  That night Magnus had drunk himself into a stupor.  He had so looked forward to taking those measurements himself.

“You look stunning, darling,” Magnus told Isabelle as he whip-stitched the dress into place. 

“I’m here,” came a deep male voice that silenced the general chatter in the dressing room.

Alec framed in the door, almost as if he was posing for a photographer.  Dear god, he was breathtaking.  Magnus actually grabbed his chest.

“Christ, Bane, play it cool,” Raphael hissed as he walked by. 

Jace Herondale approached Magnus.  “Where do you want me?” he asked. 

“Lydia will handle you,” Magnus said, waving him off.  He hadn’t yet looked away from Alexander.  Even in a plain black t-shirt and jeans, he looked like a model. 

But Jace was persistent.  “I heard Clary Fairchild is modeling this show too?  Where is she?  Can you give me her number?”

Annoyed, Magnus looked Jace up and down.  “I’m sure you can get her number yourself.”  Magnus tried to return his attention to Alec, but Jace stepped back into his vision.

“Yeah, but I want to text her some nudes first, so she knows what I’m all about.”

“Oh, I’m sure she would really appreciate _that_.”

“Right?” 

Jace was clearly not picking up on the sarcasm.  Magnus spoke as coldly and clearly as he could.  “Go see Lydia.  That blonde woman, over there.”

Before Magnus could get back to his mission, he was sidelined by Maia, who was having trouble walking in the five-inch black heels with thigh-high laces meant to go with the strappy white dress.  Then another model was crying and Raphael was having a meltdown because “It took twenty minutes to apply that eyeliner!”

“Magnus, we have a problem,” said Camille behind him.

“What now?” Magnus demanded.

Camille beckoned him to follow.  As Magnus did, he recalled that he had specifically asked Camille, one of his closest friends (and exes, but that was ancient history) to take care of Alexander when he arrived.  At first glance, all he saw was Alexander standing there in a very tiny pair of underpants.  So… many… abs… But then Magnus saw what the problem was.  His stomach sank, and threatened to expel its contents.

“When did you…?  A … tattoo?  On your neck?” Magnus sputtered.

“I woke up with it,” Alec said, seemingly unconcerned. 

“And you didn’t think this would be an issue?” Magnus’s voice was getting high.  He took a deep breath, which led him to shudder and bury his face in his hands and wail, “I’m ruined!”

“Hey, it’s no big deal.  Can’t you just, like, put some make up on it?”

That bored tone, it made everything so much worse.  Models didn’t get tattoos.  Especially not neck tattoos.  Magnus looked at Alec through the tears in his eyes.  If this beautiful, idiotic man wasn’t the one thing between him and a successful career as a fashion designer, he might have thought the tattoo made Alec even more attractive, somehow.

At this moment, however, it was a hideous problem. 

“I’ll see if Raphael has any pancake foundation,” said Camille, easing away from Magnus’s imminent meltdown.

“I think I know what will help this situation,” said Alexander.

Magnus only had time to look up at the model in confusion before those muscular arms had wrapped around him and Alexander’s mouth pressed up against his. 

“Ummph,” Magnus tried to say against the unexpected onslaught, but just like that it was over.

Alec’s blue eyes looked at him questioningly.

“Did… you just kiss me?” Magnus asked.

“Yeah.  Did it help?”

Magnus stared at him.  Alexander didn’t look like he was kidding around.  “How would kissing help this situation?”

Alec thought about that.  “Should I try again?” he asked hopefully.

It was hard to panic with Alec’s arms around his waist and Magnus’s palms on his rock-hard chest.  Magnus didn’t even know how they’d gotten there.  “Sure, why not?”

Later, after the show that would have all the gossip journalists abuzz about Alec Lightwood's new neck tattoo and, consequentially, about Magnus Bane's debut collection, Magnus watched the models disrobe in a daze, wondering what the hell had just happened.  He could still feel Alexander's lips on his own.

"Um, so are you going to ask for his number or what?" Raphael asked in a low voice.

"Do you think I should?" Magnus fiddled with the buttons on his brocade jacket.  "I think he only kissed me to distract me."

"If you believe that, you're an idiot." 

Magnus took a deep breath and made his way over to where Alec was now wearing a pair of low-slung jeans.  He was watching Jace chat up Clary across the room with a strange look on his face.  Magnus knew that look.  "That boy is straight as an arrow," he said.  "No hope."

With a little nod, Alec turned to face Magnus.  "I guess you're right."

"Maybe you'd like to continue our conversation from earlier?" Magnus asked. 

"Conversation?"  Alec squinted those blue eyes, like he was trying to think really hard.

"You know, the one where you tried to convince me that your neck tattoo wouldn't ruin my fashion show?"

Eyes unsquinted, turning into the crinkles of a smile, though those full lips didn't quirk.  "It didn't, did it?"

Magnus's heart skipped a beat as he doubted himself for just a moment.  "I might need a little more convincing."

"Your place or mine?"


End file.
